Constant
by artemis-nz
Summary: Roy Mustang, too much alcohol, and one nosy dog. Roy/Hawkeye.


**Implied Roy x Riza  
Created 25th June 2005  
Contains some coarse language.**

"I... like dogs. They're the embodiment of loyalty... right? And... they never whine about... paychecks... oh, fuck it, I hate dogs."

Roy Mustang buried his face in the arms of the blue military uniform, completely unconvinced by his own argument. Why were dogs so damn perceptive, anyway? Nobody else had to notice, so why should a mindless dog?

It hadn't started off that way, he reflected. The day hadn't looked to be such a bad one, and Colonel Roy Mustang was renowned throughout the entire military force for his rigid self-control. Never would he be seen with a woman (during hours), never would he be seen without a woman (after hours), never would he be seen doing anything other than his duty as a soldier for both...

So why now, of all times, did the stupid dog have to go and act like that on the one day he wasn't acting... entirely like himself.

"Its the drink. I shouldn't have had the drink."

That argument didn't convince him either, and he slumped down once more, defeated by his own logic. The drink had helped, of course, but he hadn't had that much to throw off the evening, even if he had been working late (and therefore drinking earlier).

Black Hayate sniffed him again, growling in a low voice – just low enough that Roy could hear it. Damn, stupid, good-for-nothing, too-smart dog...

As if sensing the thoughts directed at him, Black Hayate whined, scratching at the partially open door. Roy didn't really care anymore; there was nobody left in the building to hear the noise, echoing as it did down the empty hallways. And at this time of night, who could blame them, the colonel pondered vaguely. Why would he not be the only one left, working on some ridiculous paperwork that nonetheless required his immediate attention, even if he was still hung up about Hughes' death... not that he was, of course...

Roy abruptly decided he was drunker than he first thought he was. Eyeing the near-empty scotch glass, he absently filled it up again, sipping as he wondered about Full Metal.

Yeah, he was likely the only one dedicated enough (or dumb enough) to be wandering the place at this time... or in the library, pouring over books. Ed's obsession with those books was... admirable, Roy admitted, but still not entirely healthy... though it did often provide a good chance for a remark or two that was sure to make the Colonel's day.

"Too short to reach the third shelf, Full Metal?"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE NEEDS A STOOL TO REACH THE-"

_-Whack!-_

"I didn't go that far, idiot. Geez, some people just can't take a friendly joke..."

Ed was still seething an hour later, though he had by then managed to retrieve the book – without using a stool to do so.

Yanked roughly back into the present by Black Hayate's insistent whining, Roy pointed one stern (only _slightly_ unsteady) finger at the door.

"Get. Out." he said through gritted teeth, feeling a headache form. The dog, hearing the annoyance in the voice, wisely wriggled out through the door, and Roy got up to close it. He massaged his scalp, hoping to relieve some of the tension, but it seemed only to make things worse as he sat down at his desk once more, peering through the dimly-lit room at the disgustingly small writing that was at this moment strangely wavering before his eyes...

_Pounding, pounding..._

Now even his head was adding to the noise, Roy could practically hear it...

"Sir? Colonel Mustang?"

Great, just great, now he was hearing things, too.

"Sir."

The door creaked open again – with a rush, Roy realised the pounding was the knocking upon the heavy wood as First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye sought to discover whether or not the Colonel was in the room.

"Stupid dog..."

Black Hayate looked pleased with himself, wagging his tail as his mistress came through the door. The Lieutenant looked at him and saluted.

"Sir. I apologize for the interruption, but Black Hayate seemed to think something was amiss, so I came to make sure... sir?"

She looked confused at Roy's lack of response – he usually acknowledged her presence, even if it was nothing more than a polite nod.

"... What are you still doing here?" he eventually managed, feeling as though his tongue was a lot thicker than usual.

"Ah, just finishing off some paperwork I said I'd complete by the end of the day. Sir", she added, a trifle nervously. Roy didn't notice.

"I... think I need another drink", he mumbled, seeing that the rest of his glass had somehow disappeared.

"Sir, are you... uh... I think you've worked enough for today, sir."

"Don't call me 'Sir'... its too late in the day for that."

"Yes, s... yes."

Roy nodded, satisfied, then continued.

"Did you today's one month since he died?"

Riza didn't answer, watching the Colonel carefully, and Roy appeared not to care that she hadn't.

"So I thought... a drink or two while on the job couldn't hurt... and its after hours anyway... want one?"

Riza shook her head and pulled herself together. She had never seen the Colonel like this, but was relieved that Black Hayate had made enough fuss that she check things out.

"I think its time we left... Roy."

Not calling him 'Sir' felt rather strange, but she was a little hesitant calling the Colonel by his first name...

"No. Not yet."

"But... I think you've definitely had enough to drink. And the rest of the work can be finished tomorrow, surely."

Roy made to protest, but Riza wouldn't hear it.

"Let's go", she said, holding out an arm to steady him.

Roy looked at her, blonde hair still as tidy as ever it was, and eyes still with the forthright expression, and something clicked.

"I... needed a constant", he said after a moment, accepting her arm. "Promise you won't tell?"

"I promise, si... Roy."

"Good, good."

Roy found himself inexplicably in bed soon after, and even the next day was unable to say just how he got there. And if Riza knew anything, she certainly wasn't saying. Not that it mattered – not with a woman like that.

Roy discovered, after a few more night's contemplation, that having a constant was more important that people let on. He also came to the realisation that he really did like dogs, after all.


End file.
